hit the road, jack (and don't you come back)
From the moment Peter opened his eyes, he felt on top of the world. Nothing could stop him, and nothing would. His eyes were alight with happiness and mischief, and he knew that not even a moving car could knock him down.
Peter found his legs moving without his consent as he trotted downstairs, whistling a tune underneath his breath. He opened the back door, and didn’t complain as usual as it creaked when it hit the plastic chairs.
Looking under the trampoline, Mary seemed to be in a similar mood, and she smiled widely and beckoned him over. Nothing would stop him from trying to repair his relationship with his mother.
Happiness seeped into his stab wound, that was healing quickly despite his lack of nutrition. Peter grinned at his mother with yellowing teeth, and ran a finger through his greasy hair.
Who would’ve thought that not even a few days ago he was down in the dumps and so moody? Certainly not him. He had God to thank for his wonderful mood, and made a note to thank Him later.
“Pietro!” Mary hugged him. “Oh, I’ve been wanting one of you to come and talk to me for days, oh, Pietro, I’m so sorry, I’ve been such an awful mother, I just want to make it up to you all, oh, God,” her emotions flicked like a switch, and tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, staining Peter’s jumper. Peter pushed her away, anger pricking him like a needle.
“Where have you been then?” Peter snapped, spitting at her in her face. He banged his head against the trampoline supports, sitting up and moving to shuffle away from her. “You could’ve come back at any time!”
“I know, I know, and I said I was sorry didn’t I! But I’m here now, and I just want to make things right with my children,” tears marked her cheeks and slid down her neck underneath her top. “I didn’t mean to!” she cried. It annoyed Peter, who was already flushing red, and his brows were furrowing with anger. His lips slid into a snarl.
“If you wanted to make things right, you’re 15 years too late! Do you even know that,” Peter choked out as his lips pursed, and he wiped tears from his eyes. “That Ricardo died! You don’t, because you weren’t there!”
As Mary opened her mouth to go on another speel about how she was there now, Valentina tromped out of the door in wellies, and winced as she saw Peter sat on the muddy floor. She waved to him, and he grinned toothily.
“What are you doing sat on the floor, idiot?!” Valentina yelled. “Come inside!”
Peter then got up, agreeing with her as the rain started to pour through the crack in the trampoline, and bounded towards her, his white socks getting covered in mud and other things, and hugged her, lifting her off of her feet and spinning her around.
“Woah!” Valentina shrieked. “Down, boy,” she laughed as Peter slung an arm around her. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” Peter hummed as he contemplated his answer.
“Life, I guess,” Peter started. “God has given us such a happy fortune today and I think we should all use that to our advantage. I saw it in my dream, He spoke to me.”
Valentina’s eyebrows furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “You’re an atheist, love.” she replied bluntly, cooing at Mateo and Elisabetta as she passed them. “You converted or something?”
“No, God spoke to me, I told you that like five seconds ago,” Peter repeated. “It’s not that hard to comprehend, is it?” he snapped, but he donned a grin again as he took a piece of toast off of one of the plates and shoved it in his mouth greedily.
Peter felt like he could jump off of a cliff and survive with no injuries, heck, he could go out as Spider Man and no thugs would dare to cross him and his webs, because God would intervene and put a stop to anyone disobeying Him and His orders.
“I’ll drive you to school today, Tina, if you want, I’ll use Tracey’s car, they won’t mind,” Peter offered as he put his shoes on, not giving her time to answer. “We’ve already spent so much time this morning dawdling, there’ll be no time to get breakfast on the way, just grab a bit of toast, and that’ll do, won’t it? You can eat at school.”
Valentina grabbed Mario and Luigi too, and they were pulled behind Valentina reluctantly, their buttons half done up and their shoe laces untied. Valentina sighed.
“Where are you all going?” Caterina waltzed downstairs, rubbing her eyes. “Without me?” she frowned, her eyes closing again.
“Pietro’s offered us a ride to school,” Valentina explained quickly, seeing Peter tapping his foot impatiently by the car. “I’m not about to pass that chance up, are you?”
“I’ll, um, get the bus then?” Caterina questioned, but it wasn’t really a question. They had already been whisked out the door and it had been closed and locked behind him.
Peter loaded the kids up and put their seatbelts on while Valentina was stuck in the awkward position of tying up Mario’s laces while trying to assure Luigi everything was alright. Peter was unstable; she didn’t want to set him off on a tangent, because how would that end for Mario and Luigi?
Peter did a risky U-turn out of the drive, and he sped down the road. Valentina’s eyes widened. What the fuck? Her phone vibrated, and she picked it up with trembling hands, flipping it open.
cat: get out of that car right now oh my god
tina: why? whats wrong
cat: peter’s unstable like rrly unstable please listen to me please
cat: it’s ximena, when he drops you off, call me and i’ll come on my way, ive already taken the car and we’re coming please just stay in there for now, act like nothing’s wrong
tina: what’s going on
cat: we’ll tell you later, ok, bt please, trust us
tina: alright, ig
Peter sped down the road. Valentina held a protective hand over Mario and Luigi’s seatbelts, and her heart dropped into her stomach. Her hands were trembling, tears were pooling in the corners of her eyes, and she was taking in sharp, shaky breaths. She didn’t want to set Peter off. Even if she had just turned eleven, with the cancerous, toxic environment she had grown up in, she could connect the dots together pretty easily.
Valentina Parker Lombardi may not be able to remember much about Mary before her showing up, but what she did remember was her mood swings, her episodes, her tangents, as Ricardo had called them.
Peter was displaying similar symptoms and the same exact responses and words that she had recalled her mother doing and saying, and the same things she had caught her mother outside doing. Praying, talking about God, making up shit about random celebrities and historical figures, she swore she had once heard Joan of Arc somewhere in one of her tangents once.
It seemed like their family just poisoned everyone in it: Ricardo, Richard, Mary, May, and now Peter. Valentina had only known one parental figure that she could remember, and that was Peter. She didn’t know what she would do without him there. If he got shipped away to wear white jackets and their arms restrained and their portions controlled, she would break.
Just like her brothers before her.
Maybe Caterina would take over Peter’s job.
They cut a corner.
Maybe she would, after Caterina went and jumped off the roof of some random building, or overdosed on heroin or crack cocaine, or just walked into the middle of the road after “God had spoken to her” and a car crashed smack bang into her.
They bent round another corner, and Valentina felt Luigi’s small body on her right smash into her. She shuddered. If she lived to see another day, she would always take the bus. She was struggling to breathe, and her brother was grinning widely through the mirror, yet somehow managed to look furious at the same time.
Valentina thought it was a look that did not belong on Peter’s face, a foreign one, that was different from his warm smiles or his flushed anger or his dreadful sadness, or his weird monotone.
It was scary. It was one she had seen on the crime documentaries they had been made to watch in class, the ones that she sometimes screamed in the night about, the ones she feared.
It wasn’t right.
Valentina rubbed at her eyes, the tears coming out as moisture on her fingers as the car finally came to a harsh halt in a parking space, which she was almost definitely confident had not been parked in the parking space, but wherever the fuck that Peter wanted to park it.
“Thank you, Pietro,” Valentina stuttered out. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ti amo.” she tried to smile, but her hands shook as they joined with Mario and Luigi’s. “Come on then, guys.”
She tried not to flinch as she heard tires squeal and the car vacate the school. She sat on the steps and took out her phone, dialling Caterina’s number from memory. Her lip quivered as she waited for her to answer, and she tapped her foot against the stone stairs as if it could provide some sense of comfort.
“He’s gone, I’m at school with Maz and Luigi,” Valentina said as Caterina picked up the phone. “I’m so scared, oh my God, what’s wrong with him?” she asked frantically.
“Don’t worry,” Ximena’s voice came through, vibrating her ear but providing some semblance of comfort for her. “We’re almost there. Stay put, keep Mario and Luigi with you.”
Valentina then hung up the phone and clung onto her younger brothers for dear life. Mario was on her lap, playing a caterpillar game on her phone and Luigi was busy making marks in the stone with a sharp rock he had found.
A familiar yellow car pulled into the parking lot close to her, and the door slamming resonated through her mind. Ximena rushed towards her and took Mario and Luigi, grabbing their hands firmly, but not unkindly, and beckoned them into the car. Caterina came bounding towards Valentina, and Valentina collapsed into her arms, her voice breaking as she muttered that she was sorry, over and over, and her sobs dampened Caterina’s new jumper.
“No es tu culpa, amor, (It isn’t your fault, love.)” Caterina whispered into her ear as she used all of her arm strength to keep a grip on Valentina who had wrapped her legs around her waist. Luckily, Peter had been so up in his delusions that he didn’t realise that it was far too early for school, and nobody was in the parking lot yet. “Do you remember what happened to Mary?”
Valentina nodded hesitantly. She was intelligent for her age, and she was able to quickly connect the dots. Peter had what their mother has. They were one and the same, and there was nothing they all could do about it.
“Peter’s got it, too.” Caterina said. Valentina didn’t know how to react, even though she had already accepted it. She didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or punch something. But she had to be there for her siblings.
She had to.
As the pulled back into the house, the door was left wide open, and Ximena raised an eyebrow. Chairs had been tipped over, booze bottles were missing, and a whole load of drugs were gone.
Ximena and Caterina exchanged a fearful glance that shared way more than what they were comfortable with saying.
Peter was gone.
And, judging by the state of the back yard, so was Mary.
Fuck.